Things Left Unsaid
by kate98
Summary: Based on events in the episode Second Sight. So much was left unsaid. (First WAT fic - be kind)


**Things Left Unsaid**

_Silence is golden  
__Words are made of lead  
A__nd in the alchemy of love, you know  
__Some things are better left unsaid  
__- Silent Ways, Michelle Shocked_

"It's going to be okay," Jack tells Viv. She looks up at him, and he can see her struggling to contain the fear. "It's going to be okay," he repeats, but he wonders if she trusts him enough to take any comfort. Until a few minutes ago, he wouldn't have doubted, but she's turned his world upside down. She's known for a month.

Viv's attention is drawn to the EMT as he checks her vitals yet again, one final time as they approach the hospital so he can give the doctors the most current information. When Viv releases Jack's eyes, his mind wanders. He wonders when he lost her trust. Over the last six months, he's given her ample reason for having misgivings. Aside from ruining her promotion, he's smashed up the office, hidden evidence from NYPD and his own superiors, and probably a committed a host of lesser offenses.

The ambulance stops and the doors fly open. Amidst a flurry of white coats, the wheels are dropped on Viv's gurney and she is taken away. A woman in multicolored scrubs with a clipboard and pen asks Jack more questions. For a moment, he stares after Viv and thinks, s_he should have told me._

_&&&_

Martin trails Danny and Sam down the hall, back toward his desk. He knows he should be concentrating on the new lead, the abduction video, but really he just wants a drink. But, no, he won't be the guy who haunts the local bar in the middle of the day, brooding over a woman he knows is bad for him. He thinks he should take a break and go for a run, but he doesn't want to be that guy either. He doesn't want to have to depend on any _thing _to get him through. To do so would mean he had become predictable, and if there's one thing he never wants to be, it's predictable.

So, Martin chooses to carry on, get straight to the job at hand. But while he does, the argument with Sam replays in his head, again and again. He's taking the pieces of this incident and fitting them into the greater puzzle that is their relationship. He's trying to connect the dots, but they just aren't matching up. Selfish, she had said, and the word didn't fit the circumstance.

Insensitive, he will grant her. Not for sitting at Viv's desk, but for failing to realize that Sam might need to talk about the situation. He still is not accomplished at being empathetic. He's still uncomfortable with displaying that level of emotion. But he knows this had nothing to do with Sam's outburst.

He wonders, _what is it that she's too afraid to say?_

_&&&_

Patrick Orton stares at his daughter. Standing in the sun, standing up to the _outsider_, she seems to have the strength of angels. He is proud of her; he has always been proud of her. He knows it was a sin for her to turn her back on the clan, a grievous sin to rob them, yet their people value cleverness and ingenuity just as much as loyalty. She has that in spades. He is proud to have a daughter who was capable of taking what she wanted and making her own way in the world. She had done that, even without the money, for seven years.

When she first returned – hands open to him, begging to come home – he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and protect her like a little child. But he'd had no right to ask mercy of the others. Debts had to be paid. She was a strong girl; she would pay what was owed.

But now he knows the truth, she is fragile. The thought plagues him: _Why didn't she tell me?_

_&&&_

Sam has no idea what she will say to Martin when he opens the door. She has the key, but after today, she will not presume to let herself in. She owes him an explanation. She owes him a lot of things.

In the end, she doesn't need to say anything. Martin greets her with silence – not a sullen silence, but a conciliatory one. This is his way of letting her have her space, even as he pulls her body close. He wraps his arms around her, presses his lips to her neck. They stand still in the open doorway for a moment, and then he takes her hand and leads her inside.

Sam allows herself this comfort, this quiet space between them. She allows herself the warmth, the passion, and the safety of his arms as she sleeps. No words pass between them.

When she wakes, she asks herself, _when will I find the strength to tell him?_


End file.
